Child of the Sky
by tjoou
Summary: Challenge to write an OC that isn't a Sue. Vegeta runs off to train to achieve Super Saiyanjin, and is mistaken for a god by an aboriginal tribe. Boffs with one of the tribal women and leaves, unknowing that she was pregnant, for Bulma. VegBulma, VegOC


_Holy crap, this is my first time writing a fanfic of any sorts in... wow, it must be at least three years now. I like writing, but I'm lazy. As a result I have this lovely ability where I'm able to get a point across in a story very well, but I'm neither eloquent nor interesting while I do so._

_I challenged myself (with a little support from various other people) to recreate my old Dragonball Z original character. She is __**not**__ a Mary Sue. Or, at least, I'd like to think she's not. That was the challenge, after all- remake my old Sue into something plausible. Do correct me on any canon errors, because the point of this was to try and create an OC that fits as well into the canon as possible. I haven't watched or read DB/Z/GT in four years, so most of the canon references in this fic are based off of memory or are doubtGoogled. _

_If I owned DBZ, I wouldn't be writing shitty fanfiction for it._

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Chapter One

_Why? How? A mere grunt like Kakarot is able to achieve the ultimate form with no effort... no desire to, even! And there I was, powerless, unable to do anything. I'm just glad I didn't have to watch._

Vegeta spit into the clouds below him. He had been flying nonstop after storming out of the Briefs' estate in a fit of groundless rage, having lost track of where he was, or even which direction he was headed in, hours ago. His mind needed clearing. He knew that it was one of his greatest faults to dwell on the past, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not put aside his shame of weeping in front of Kakarot as he died like a dog by Frieza's hand. He considered his resurrection to be both a gift and a curse: he now had another chance to become the great warrior he knew he had the potential to become, a gift most fallen fighters could only wish for, but at the cost of bearing the humiliation of being surpassed by someone as lowly as Kakarot- the humiliation that death would have otherwise relieved him from.

He couldn't remember what it was exactly that caused him to storm out of the Briefs'. It was entirely likely that it was a combination of his frustrations with training and his annoyance with that human woman, Bulma. She gave him strange looks; looks that left him feeling unsettled. She would watch him train, offer him food, and try to get him to talk about his life as a Prince. Oh, yes, she was very enamored by the fact that he was royalty. On one hand, it brought a small amount of pride and what may have been childish glee into his life to once again have someone hold him in high respects, but there was just one issue: She was annoying.

It wasn't the type of annoying that he could accurately describe. He could explain in great detail to anyone who asked what it was about Kakarot that angered him so much, and the same went for Kakarot's little rugrat and stunted bald friend. Vegeta knew he wasn't one to talk on the subject of being small in stature, but he felt emotionally satisfied to pick apart the people he hated in his mind. But the human woman was different. It was a subject that bothered him to think about.

He slowed down his flight. Evening had come, and the sunset winds were whipping uncomfortably at his face. He was beginning to regret leaving the estate; there was nothing for him out here. Bulma would have the gravity chamber up and running soon, and that was the only place where he could effectively train with his skill and strength. But he had to leave with dignity; there was no crawling back. He promised himself that he would not return until he had achieved his goal of reaching Super Saiyan-jin. He had three years' time, according to the pale-haired boy from the future, to attain the strength to make the transformation, and if it took three years then that's how long he would be gone. To come crawling back after making such a promise to himself would be an insult to the new chance at life he was given. Vegeta _did_ admit to himself that it wasn't a very well thought-out plan. He had no food, for starters. He was also extremely unfamiliar with the customs of Earth and would have no idea how to interact with humans in the event that he actually needed to. All he knew about human customs he learned from observing the Briefs, Bulma in particular, and what he had gathered thus far about Earth communication is that if someone has a differing opinion or business idea than your own, then it is in proper taste to scream at them and throw empty threats until they conform to your ideas. He had observed Bulma use this tactic numerous times on business calls.

He let out an annoyed groan as he went over all the flaws in his grand training plan, and made a mental note to himself to never let frustration get in the way of his decision-making ever again.

The cold above the clouds had become a little less than bearable, so he nonchalantly blew a gap in the clouds with a small energy blast from his palm to make for an easy and warm passage through the clouds. When he emerged, he could barely make out the landscape beneath him in the dull, grey light of the dusk. He could see the silhouettes of some mountains looming off in the distance in the direction he had been traveling from. He couldn't even remember passing over a mountain range. Hills and dells pocked the landscape, which was a stretch of grassland that went on into the horizon. It was as good a place as any to train.

He caught a shimmer of light in the corner of his eye and faced the source. No more than a mile from where he was now was a small cluster of lights, nestled peacefully in a shadowy dell.

"Humans."

The sound of his own voice startled him a little bit. It was the first thing he had said since that morning. He was tired of being around humans, but he found himself inexplicably drawn toward them, and without realizing it, he was flying toward the glimmer of light in the distance.

_When I first came to earth, I destroyed an entire city with no second thoughts,_ he mused. _I laughed, and I would have done it again. And now, here I am, about to go-_

"Look!"

His brief rumination was cut short, and he snapped back into reality. He had completely forgotten that flying was not something that was considered normal on earth, and staring up at him was a group of at least eighty men, women, and children, presumably from the settlement that he had been heading toward. The large group was surrounding a small crater that Vegeta then recognized to be the result of his chi blast used to clear the clouds. _They probably saw the flash of light and left the village to investigate, _he thought. _Good job, Vegeta. Good job._

"Please, come down to us!" called a man. "We are honored by your visit!"

Choices ran through Vegeta's head. He could just ignore them and leave, or he could take advantage of their welcome attitudes and have free food while he trained. Deciding that the latter would be in his best personal interest, he landed. High up, the people were difficult to see in what little light was left of the evening, but up close, he could see that they had tan skin and wore bone jewelry and animal pelts. Many of the women had exposed tops, and the children wore little to no clothing at all. They were unlike any humans he had ever encountered thus far on his stay on earth. Were they even humans? They had to be, they had a human chi. More choices rushed through his head. What if he just killed them and took what he needed? It wouldn't be the first time he had done something like that. Bulma wouldn't have to know. _But then,_ he argued to himself, _why would I care what Bulma thought in the first place? _The man who called him down spoke, breaking his train of thought for the second time.

"The fact that you have chosen to visit us is very special to us." The man fell to his knees and bowed before him, and the others soon followed suit. "We have prayed that you would come down from the clouds and give us your blessing. Thank you. Thank you!" The man was in tears. Some of the people then rose back up to their knees. Many were also in tears, and some began to sing songs. A woman stood and walked up to him, gently took his hand, and kissed his palm. Others began to stand and approach him, some putting their jewelry around his neck, and others simply stood around him, breathing with intention instead of subconsciously, as if the air surrounding him was somehow more precious than "average" air.

"I-- What? No, wait..."

He stopped. As soon as he had really registered what it was that was going on, Vegeta's annoyance transformed into a twisted pleasure. They thought he was a god from the heavens, and he could easily put that to his own advantage. He had changed his mind about killing these people. There was no need.

He was beginning to like earth.

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_Some more A/N's:_

_Any cracks at Bulma are meant to be from Vegeta's perspective, not my own. Just thought I'd clear that up._

_I suck at writing, and, as I said, I haven't written a DBZ fic in four years, so if I mangled the canon beyond recognizability, or if I raped Vegeta's character to the point where he just isn't Vegeta anymore, please tell me. PLEASE. I want this fic to not suck._


End file.
